


Sweet Nothings-An Olicity Drabble Collection

by bre_0



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bre_0/pseuds/bre_0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Tumblr Drabbles created to keep feeding the Olicity beast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wigs and Cocktails

From a prompt posted by lynnpea

The wig itched

Right behind her left ear and just underneath the hair net holding back her blonde hair. 

She discreetly moved her hand scratched the offending patch of skin.

"Felicity, are you here?" Oliver’s voice came through the comm. 

She surveyed the party. 

"Yes," She said, looking for her objective.

"He is at the bar." Diggle informed her.

As a member of Starling City’s elite, their new target, James Winters was set to make an appearance at Oliver’s latest fund raiser event.

Both Oliver and Digg vehemently opposed her plan but until she reminded them that unless they grew a set of boobs and girl parts, James wasn’t going let them get close enough to bug him. 

If Roy had been in town, then maybe he could have him to it, but after making up with Thea and going away for the weekend -Oliver had glared and grumbled - slight of hand wasn’t an option.

Both Oliver and Diggle, while great at combat, sucked at subtly.

Which is where she came in. Obviously, she couldn’t come as her self to this event. Everyone, at least those at QC, knew her as Oliver’s former EA. And her trademark blonde hair and glasses were too memorable.

No, it was time for a disguise, such as her good-old old showgirl days. It was all in the hair and makeup.

The bar came into view and to her left, she spotted Oliver and Diggle. Their backs were to her, but she would recognize Oliver’s shoulders anywhere. 

With a small shake of her head, she spotted heir target, James Winter sat near the end of the counter, and the stool next to him was empty. 

She smiled. 

Showtime.

"See him, I am going in."

____

"Yes." Her clean, crisp voice came into the comm. Oliver tried to find her in the crowd.

She told them she wasn’t coming as a blond. That in itself caused some sort of disconnect in his head. He really tried to imagine her with any other color, but nothing seem to stick.

Golden, shining, blond curls were just so her that any other color did not sit well with him.

He knew she dyed it. She told him herself, but it still didn’t seem possible.

Diggle looked in the other direction for her. 

"Do you see her?" Oliver asked, starting to get concerned he couldn’t see her in the mass of people milling around the room.

You would think he could tell her from the crowd. Especially with all the attention he placed on each facade of her face and body.

No, he wasn’t to try to think about that at all. Diggle’s frown concerned Oliver.

His friend shook his head,”Can’t seem to find her.”

Oliver growled and was just about to talk to her when they heard, “See him. I am going in.”

Both men turned towards the bar, looking for their petite friend. Except they didn’t see her.

All Oliver saw was the back of a brunette, in a elegant, but provocative green dress walking towards Winters. He couldn’t see her face, but something about her drew is undivided attention. An awareness hummed under his skin and it unnerved him.

The gown did not reveal a shocking amount of skin. It hugged her curves and fell off her shoulders to the back of her knees. The effect was intoxicating. It drew Oliver’s eyes to the curve of her back, deepening down until the pale skin of her calves made a man’s hand itch to touch the smooth expanse.

Her hair hug down her back in lush brown waves. One side was pushed up with an emerald hair clip, exposing the long, delicate column of her neck and bare shoulder. She walked with purpose, her hips swaying from one side to the next in a languid, seductive fashion. 

Then she sat next to Winters.

"Damn," Diggle said, his voice little shocked and amazed, "I think that is…"

No, it couldn’t be. But beyond the haze clouding his vision echoes of his sweet Felicity here there. In the slope of her neck, in the curve of her back. He now noticed the slender wrist and the green nail polish adorning her hands.

Felicity had green nail polish this morning.

Denial warred with desire. 

The brunette, crossed her legs, letting the shirt of the dress hike up her thigh. She singled the bartender and Felicity’s voice , husky, and laced with sex filled Oliver’s ear, “Hi I’m Megan. Why don’t I buy you a drink.”

Oliver looked in the mirror. Her face, still half obscured by the hair, relived enough. The bright blue eyes were almost cobalt under the heavy, smokey shadows. Her full lips, often in bright shades of pink, were now a deep blood red, making them seem as if they have been kissed for days.

Lust slammed into him, robbing him of his breath.

Winter didn't stand a chance. The idiot curled into her like a cat and said something.

Blood thundered in his ears making it impossible to know.

Then Felicity laughed. 

And Oliver’s understanding of reality unraveled.


	2. A Cup Runneth Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because sometimes she can’t be the strong one. One time Felicity needed a hug and Oliver gave it.

She hated this time. Hated knowing and feeling this gaping hole where _something_ used to reside in.

It wasn’t always this way. Once, not to long ago, she filled the hole with laughter and friends and movies and TV shows and books. She filled it with glasses and wine and smiles. She glossed over it all and taped it up with microchips and motherboards. It worked.

Until  _he_ came into her life with a bullet-ridden laptop and lies in his blue eyes.

It didn’t stop her traitorous heart from skipping at the small smile tugging on his lips.

It didn’t stop.

And that was the problem. He drew her in like a snake to a charmer. His pain, his eyes, his dreams and nightmares, all drew her in bit by bit and then there wasn’t any hope.

The cracks on the hole splintered the seal.

And the crap oozed out. Stupid, ridiculously, silly things which never really mattered poured out, leaving a gaping hole begging to be filled.

And he did. Filled it with purpose, with pride, with action and trust. Possibilities and never-ending horizons. She flew like Icarus; she aimed to touch the sun, and fell just as hard. Brazen, foolish girl.

She hated this time of night. Somewhere between too early to wait for the sun, but too late to really get any real dreamless sleep. She sat curled on her sofa and hugged her knees. She really didn’t want to be alone tonight.

A tear slipped out of her eye and hit her PJ’s. A flood pushed behind her eyes.

Why hasn’t she insisted on him staying with her? She had the room and even though a deep part of her mind knew the notion of him under her roof equaled a catastrophically bad idea, she would have given a year of her life for a hug right now.

This didn’t happen often. It didn’t. Just sometimes she was a cup, and things built inside drop by drop until…until it runneth over and her soul gashed and wailed and had to pour itself out to empty. Then, after she would be ready to start collecting drops all over again.

She didn’t hear him. The blood pounding in her head too loud and the trembling dominating her body too fierce.

He said her name. It penetrated the haze of her misery, eyes wide. Was he a mirage? Had she conjured him? Was she so desperate to see him?

 _Yes_ , her feverious heart screamed.  _Yes, yes yes!_

"Ol-iver?" she said in a broken whisper.

Far back in her mind, she registered an open window in her living room.

He was still in his Arrow gear, but his hood was down and his face was free of his mask. Nothing between him and her. His eyes soft and dark.

"Are you really here?" She managed before more tears welled, choking her.

He walked to her, kneeled in front of her and took her balled hands into his own. He didn’t ask what was wrong. Didn’t question, just accepted and gave her silence.

The warmth of his skin seeped into her. She let out a shuttered sob, as another tremble overtook her.

He knew what she needed, more than she did it seemed. Without releasing her hands, he sat down next to her and gathered her to his chest. One of his hands stroked her hair and back.

He kissed her forehead. Lips lingered on her skin. 

The flood burst.

Sobs racked her body and his arms tighten around her, his strong embrace absorbing her anguish. Time ceased to move. An eternity existed and went while she cried herself dry. An eon later, she finally felt the calm of  _after_  overtake her. His hands never left her, touching her hair, her back, wiping tears from her face.

As the edges of her vision turned black and the heavy pull of sleep dragged her down, she realized something.

He hadn’t let go. Not even once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble from Tumblr after one night thinking of Felicity needing a hug.


	3. On the Edge of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from dreamyuniversestuff on Tumblr: Oliver and Felicity on the rooftops people watching.

“What about him?” Oliver said, leaning on the railing, looking down to the busy street below.

Felicity peered to the general direction of the crowd and zoned in on the guy playing the guitar at the corner.  He had just arrived a couple of minutes before.  

“Hmm,” she said, taking a sip of the exquisite and very expensive red wine Oliver managed to extract from his former home.

She studied the young man.  “He is a college music major.  Came to study at the Starling Conservatory on a scholarship and when he needs to unwind, he comes out in the middle of the street and plays a song. Of course, the few tips doesn’t hurt.”  She winked at him and a wide smile speed on his face.

She loved that smile.  The real one he rarely showed. The one that warmed his eyes from the inside until the cool blue of his eyes deepened. 

They started to come up here a few months ago.  The new lair was located in the warehouse district, but the western edge faced towards  a new, and booming art district where new cafes and art galleries were starting to claim the ruins of the buildings left behind the wake of Slade’s attack. The lights came not soon after the city settled and life resumed its hold on all those who survived.  And in the nature of memories being fallible, the sharp edges of the horrors dulled and dimmed, until people started to laugh again and stopped looking over shoulders every time a sound was made.

The first time Felicity came up here, she was trying to take a breath.  The night had been hard. Some leads they had didn’t pan out the way they needed and a drug lord had been able to make his delivery.  Now, thousands of pounds of  MX, a horrible cousin to Vertigo, were now out in the streets.  She had come with her head full and her heart heavy and when she sat down and looked at the street below and saw people milling around, laughing and going about like nothing bad had happened.

She hadn’t expected him then, seeking her out, even when all she wanted to do was hide.

Instead they spent the night people watching from the roof, letting for a singular moment the simple pleasure of just  _being_ exist without weighted conversations.

After that, it kinda of became a ritual of sorts.  At least once a week, usually on Friday nights, when most of the cafes and art galleries had one event or another and the most amount of people would  congregate below, Felicity and Oliver would find themselves on the roof watching. At one point, Felicity found a couple of folding chairs and a rickety plastic table and there they had it-a makeshift oasis.

Tonight, he brought a bottle of wine and some cheese.

Tonight, they had spent most of the night not getting killed as Oliver, Roy, Diggle and Laurel tried to finally take down the main supplier of MX. Thankfully, they did it, though Roy got a nasty cut on his arm, and Laurel got a mild concussion.  After the commotion, Felicity found herself walking up the steps to the roof, taking off her heels and letting them dangle in her hand.

He was already there when she came through the door. Resting against the iron railing and looking down below.  Light from the streets and the moon, cased shadows in the creases of his face. 

Oliver looked as tired as she felt.  When he offered the wine glass in silence, she took it giving him a grateful smile.  Then took a big gulp.

After her second glass, she started rambling, making one comment or another on whomever he picked from the crowd.  After the musician, he pointed down again and said, “What about her?”

Felicity saw who he was referring to, she was a young girl (part of her scoffed at her referring to anyone as “young girl” since she herself was only a few years shy of thirty- though there were days Felicity felt ancient, like all the experiences of her life compounded on themselves, pushing down on her until she felt like a fossil).  The young girl wore a pretty dress, her hair long and braided down her back. Her back was straight and she looked around.

“She is meeting a blind date.” Felicity said. “Probably met him online on one of those sites and now they are meeting for the first time.”  Before Oliver could say anything, a man walked towards the girl, the awkwardness of their conversation even evident from their vantage point.  The man laughed and rubbed the back of his head.  The girl smiled and shyly moved in a step.  

“Poor bastard.” Oliver muttered, watching the couple walk way and into one of the cafes.

“Why?” She asked, watching his face.  His eyes were pensive and deep. Those eyes of his, speaking a million things his lips would never say. 

“Starstuck.  She will have him wrapped around his finger by the end of the date.” 

Felicity arched a brow, “Really? And you got all that from seeing them met.”

He turned away from the scene below and looked at her fully.  Mischief graced his features.  He took a sip of his wine.

“Oh yeah.  I saw his smile.  Poor guy was trying to be cool and collected, then she said something unexpected and he laughed in spite of himself.  Idiot couldn’t help it and he is entranced. Goner.”

 His  _real_  smile spread leisurely on his face. “Completely understand his predicament.” He said, soft and teasing, taking another slow sip of wine.  The liquid coats his upper lips and then he licked off the excess. His eyes never leaving hers.

 A warmth unfurled under her skin.  Felicity swallowed, knowing her face was flush in the darkness.

_Damn this wine_ , she thought.

And took another gulp.


	4. A Question in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from foi-a-lisa on Tumblr: "Can I kiss you?"

When it happened it was without warning.

They had been watching another episode of Doctor Who and Oliver making the usual commentary on how this show didn’t make an sense and why was it he couldn’t help himself from watching.

She had laughed at his befuddled expression, overwhelmed by just how _adorable_  he looked with his face relaxed and perplexed over something so _normal._

Something shifted in her heart and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.  She tried to blink away the extra moisture, but he caught it before she could play it off and blame something like sleep or allergies.

A question and worry hovered in his eyes when his fingers reached out and from underneath her glasses, his thumb wiped off a tear collected in the corner of her left eye.

Embarrassment and silliness colored her skin and she willed herself  _not_ to lean into his big hand. She expected him to ask. Expected his hand to make a hasty retreat with her tear.

But neither happened.  Instead, his hand, which had only hovered over her face besides his thumb, made contact with her face.  

The unexpected contact caused her to look at him.  His face was no longer relaxed.  His jaw tight and his eyes dark, stormy bits of blue.

The air around her sofa felt different. Like somehow a bubble had formed around them and the heat from their skins and the warmth of the breaths made everything thicker,

Felicity couldn’t tear her eyes from his.  His thumb started to stork her check.

She let out a shuttered breath and goosebumps broke out on her skin, tingles from his touch cascading through her.

“Oliver-“ She managed to choke out, feeling need to release some of the tension building inside her with his name.

At the sound of her voice, he jerked and Felicity braced herself for the loss of his caress. Instead she felt his hand move back towards the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her loose blonde hair.

Desire, anticipation, shock all exploded within her and she was sure he must have seen it in her face, because a look of awe, fear, amazement, even a twinge of hope settled over his features,

She forgot to breathe.

He never looked so unguarded before. So  _hopeful_  and nothing, not surviving her mother, MIT, meeting Oliver, becoming part of a team-nothing could have prepared her for the words which spilled out of his lips in a half-whisper, almost as if he was saying it to himself, “Can I kiss you?”

The breath held hostage expelled from Felicity’s lungs and her gaze dropped to his wonderful lips and before she could answer, the hand in her hair tightened and propel her forward just a inch.

Soft lips met hers and he tasted like buttered popcorn and chocolate and so very him. She groaned, Oliver’s other arm wrapped around her waist, almost pulling her into his lap.

Everything ceased to exist but the feel of him.

Much later, when she could think again and she drew circles on his chest, she would realize okay, so she did have a  _slight_  warning.


	5. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr: Oliver bonding with Felicity and Conner and he tells her he meant in the night of the mansion

Screeching greeted him as soon as he opened the door to his apartment.

For a split second his heart leap to his throat and a rush of adrenaline surged through him.Then the screeching came closer and Conner was running full stream down the corridor.His tired to corner the archway into the living room and slid on the wood floor because of his socks.He giggled and not even noticing his father, scrambled back and ran to hide behind the sofa. 

Another voice boomed from the hallway, “FE FI FO FUM. THE TICKLE GIANT COMES!”Felicity yelled and he could hear her stomping into view.Cover in the multicolored throw his sister hand bought for him, she looked like a lumbering rainbow staking Conner.Behind his hiding place, Conner let out a short burst of giggles.Oliver could only imagine him physically vibrating in anticipation.

Felicity thundered through the living, obviously not noticing him behind that thick crocheted monstrosity on her head.She dove behind the sofa and another choirs of squeals exploded and filled the air.

A sweet burst of love and joy cascaded from the deepest part of his soul.For the first time in years, maybe even ever, Oliver felt peace. Real, down to very core of his being-peace.Tears stung his eyes and he propped himself for a moment against the doorframe a little too overwhelmed.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his irregular heart.Felicity screamed out, “YOU ARE MINE LITTLE BOY!” Another explosion of giggles and joy and child and woman. His life right there before him.Everything he thought he could never have, everything he thought he never deserved, was concealed behind that sofa, wrestling on the floor. He wanted them. Wanted to step from the outside in.He was so tiredof not living.A rush hummed under his skin and his legs moved.

Oliver didn’t think. Just felt and before he could stop himself, he came around the sofa.Conner’s eyes were shut, tears of laughter streaming down the side.Felicity’s form loomed over him and her fingers tickled Conner’s ribs.Oliver ripped off the throw from Felicity and for a second she let out a startled gasp.She pivoted on knee to kick him in the ribs, but Oliver caught it and said,” Looks like I got myself a tickle giant.”

Anger and relief speed on her face, “Damn it Oliver,” she said, trying to give him a kick with her imprisoned leg, “you scared me to death!” He didn’t fail to notice how she had positioned herself over his son like a shield.God, he loved this woman. 

Conner’s eyes flew open as soon as the tickling stopped and gave his dad a big smile. Oliver game him one right back.

“Conner,” he said, blue eyes meeting blue eyes, “What should we do now that we got the tickle giant?”Oliver hadn’t released his hold on Felicity’s leg and when she tried to pull away, he held on.Both males reached the same answer.

Without giving her a chance to run, Oliver placed his other hand by her head and flipped her to the ground.

“Whattttt!” She cried out, eyes wide behind her glasses and both Conner and Oliver’s hands desended on her ribs, wreaking havoc.

She screamed in laugher. Her head thrown back, her mouth wide and pearls of joy emanated as she squirmed under their hands trying to get away. Both father and son laughed along with her. The sound of them infused the room until its haze made everything seem like a dream.

“Oh God! Stop! Stop!I am going to pee myself!” She cried out in between breathless glee.Chuckling, Oliver stilled Conner’s fingers.“Okay, son, I think we have conquered the tickle giant.” Conner smiled and looked down at Felicity’s flushed figure, “Do you surrender?” he asked.

“I surrender!” She said in a pant. 

“Cool, I win!”He did a fist pump in the air and then said to Oliver, “Dad, can I play a game?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.”Conner flashed him a big grin and then bent down and gave Felicity a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks ‘Lici, that was fun!” 

She snorted, “Anytime!” 

The boy didn’t wait around and ran to his room to play his video game before bed.Felicity hadn’t moved yet from the tickle attack.Her breath was starting to normalize, but her face was still flush and her hair fanned out behind her and over her eyes.

He leaned down next to her, placing most of his weight on his elbow and then brushed the errand hair from her face.

The pulse in her throat quickened.Felicity turned her face towards him. She was so close, her breath warmed his skin.

“Hey,” he said. His voice soft.

The blue of her eyes grew darker. Her cheeks were still pink. “Hey,” she replied, just as low as he did.He brushed back another strand and tucked it behind her ear.

Months, years, if he was honest with himself, they had been dancing. A dance he put in motion that night when he said more than he meant to say.That night when the look in her eyes, the utter belief of him shining there, dragged out of his soul a secret so deep, he almost didn’t recognize the truth of it until they spilled from his lips.After that, he tired to let her be, tried to be a friend, be a partner, tried not to let the regret and longing gnaw on his heart each time he saw her with a date or felt her distance herself.He held it in because this time, this one time in his worthless life, he was going to be selfless and let go the thing he wanted most in the world.Or he thought he could, because in the end, they were drawn to the other, and all the insurmountble reasons which he held on to for dear life only ten minutes before-now seemed like ridiculous nonsense. The peace he felt earlier settled over him and he knew he had to tell her.Even if after he said it, she couldn’t return the sentiment. It was okay.He loved her. The rest was just details.

“I love you. ” He said, and her eyes grew again behind the lens.Doubt, hope lingered in her gaze, he continued, unhurried,”That night in the mansion, I meant every single word I said to you.”Another strand pushed away.His fingers came to her lips and traced their outline.He felt her stirred breath underneath his fingertips.

“I am not tell you this because I expect anything from you.I love you and I need you to know that.”Silence stretched for a moment.Without breaking eye contact, she removed her glasses and put them above her head.Then she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back.Startled, Oliver let the monument drop him on his back and Felicity rolled on top of him.Her legs straddled his hips.She leaned down and planted both her hands on either side of his face.

Her shadow embraced him and she said, joy and heat lacing the words, “I love you too, you idiot. Now shut up.”

Felicity kissed him.

Everything else faded leaving only the feel of her and him-together


	6. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Nonnie Tumblr prompt:A few months after the season 2's finale, and weeks of Felicity and Oliver skirting around the issue, Diggle finally loses his mind and sets his two besties straight about their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version is slightly different than the hurried version I posted on Tumblr. Edited it and cleaned up the flow. Hope you enjoy and thanks again for reading!

John Diggle preceded to lose his shit at approximately 11:20pm on a Wednesday night.

It started normal enough.

Oliver, Roy and himself all ventured out into the field as usual. Felicity made her usual commentary on the comms, making everyone snicker at her saying,”Remember boys, don’t get blood on the leather. It is hell to get the stains out.”

Everything seemed okay.Well as okay as it could be in the “new normal” as John thought of it. The new normal consisted of Felicity coming down to the new lair each day from her new job at Kord Enterprise. When she would walk in, Oliver always seemed to be shirtless beating the crap out of a dummy or Roy. And as usual the air in the smaller lair thickened and the tension between his two best friends hummed like a string throughout the place.

It was becoming hard to breathe around the two of them. He wasn’t an idiot, John knew _exactly_ what was burning Oliver’s ass and why Felicity keep stealing guilty glances Oliver’s way and why her rambles have decreased ten fold.

_That night._

Felicity rambled the truth of what happened a few weeks after they returned to Starling City. John knew she hadn’t meant to say so much by the blush on her face and how her eyes strayed away from his. Felicity didn’t comment again, and John warring with the sensation to kill his brother and hug his sister, decided to let them figure this out between themselves.

Big mistake.

It happened slowly. At first it all felt the same. Except Oliver seemed to trail her with his eyes more. John noticed how Oliver always found a way to be in her space, just an inch or two closer than before. He noticed how his friend’s face would soften at her babble and how Oliver’s bad mood could be quelled just by her making a joke. Oh man, John thought, he is a goner and didn’t even know it.

Oliver, being Oliver, of course denied anything every time John brought it up, saying,”What are you talking about?” And promptly walking away and beating on the first object to cross his path.

It all came out one night after Felicity and Roy went home and Oliver once again was punishing a dummy.

John decided to cut to the chase,“Why don’t you tell her?” He took up an escrima stick anticipating Oliver’s reaction.

Oliver didn’t disappoint. The scowl on his face could cut glass, “What are you talking about?”

John raised an eyebrow and just waited. He could almost see the very moment Oliver admitted defeat. His body curled in a little, like a deflated balloon. Oliver leaned on the stick he had been using like a crutch, weariness aging his face.

John felt a little pity for him. He looked like crap.

Oliver let out a sigh and said, “I can’t. She…” he stop, looking around him as if search for the words in front of him. “She,” he started again,”deserves someone better. Someone whole. I can’t screw it up, John. She isn’t like anyone else.” Oliver looked at him, pleading for him to understand.

John did understand, but he still thought he was being an idiot.

“Look Oliver, I know you are scared.” He held up a hand to cut off Oliver’s protest,”BUT, you do realize hiding away and never saying anything isn’t going to stop your feelings, right? She is an amazing woman and some day very soon, she is going to have a life outside all of this.” _Outside of you_ hung in the air.

Resignation settled over Oliver’s face, “Good. I want her to have one.”

Bullshit, thought John. Oliver was a horrible lair and he was even worse at sharing.

As soon as Felicity started working for Ted Kord things took a turn for the worse. Oliver became more withdrawn. More annoyed at the texts Felicity would send because she was running late because of a meeting. Things got even worse when John and Oliver went to surprise Felicity to take her to lunch and she was out-with Ted Kord.

Oliver came back to the lair and mangled a dummy that day.

Then tonight at 9:30pm, Felicity came down to the lair, dressed to the nines and with a distinct mark on her neck.

John noticed it and mentally groaned looking at Oliver waiting to see when he would notice. It took his friend about a second to zone in on the mark. He could see Oliver’s jaw tightened, then the Arrow mask, both the literal and the figurative came on and he was all business.

The night was going fine until they were finishing up and Felicity, being herself, tried to keep the mood light,”Okay boys, see you in a few. Do you guys want Thai or burgers?”

Oliver grumbled, “Are hickeys on the menu?” and John winched.

“What was that?” Felicity asked, obviously missing what Oliver had said.

“Nothing” Oliver grunted. And John’s ire grew. Felicity was clueless and frankly who could blame her with this colossal idiot.

_Enough was enough._

They walked into the lair and she was sitting at her desk. The mark blazing like a tattoo on her neck.

“You could at least put some makeup on it.” Oliver bit out.

Shock widened her eyes and she looked to John. Great. He pointed to his neck and she sprinted to her purse and took out a compact. When she saw it, her face paled and then in the same instance blood rushed her skin. Anger pulsed off her and she stomped up to Oliver, her head thrown back, her blue eyes blazing.

“Why do I need to hide it, Oliver?” She used her loud voice.

Crap. This was going to spiral out of control. Sure enough, Oliver couldn’t just think with the head on top of his shoulders and just deflect, just say anything. Nope, he had to stare right back down and answer with so much venom, it pissed John off, “Because you are a grown woman, not some horny teenager.”

“ENOUGH!” John’s voice bellowed. Both of them stopped and looked at him in shock.

“Enough. You,” he pointed at Oliver,”do not have right to make her feel bad about having a good time. If you don’t want her to have a good time with someone else, then get your _ass in gear_ and make sure she has a good time with you.”

Felicity squeaked. Oliver blushed.

“And you!” John looked at Felicity. She squirmed under his gaze,”You are an amazing woman. _Anyone_ would want to be with you and count their blessings. You are the thing that keeps this,” he gestured to the lair, “going and you are the _only_ thing that keeps him,” jabbed a thumb at Oliver “in line. You are _not_ just some IT girl. You are Felicity Megan Fucking Smoak.”

Her eyes were so wide it looked like they would escape the frame of her glasses. Her back straightened.

“Now, Roy and I are going to leave. We are coming back tomorrow morning. Talk about this. Figure it out. Understood?”

They both nodded.

“Good.”

“Come on, Roy,” The younger man who had witness the whole exchange in silence stumbled towards John and away from Oliver and Felicity. Both of whom did not move.

They were almost out the door when he heard Felicity’s hushed whisper, _“Did Diggle just curse?”_

 


	7. Annihilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from tumblr: For 24 hours, Oliver thinks that Felicity has died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Nonnie, for such a great prompt. I don’t think I did it justice. There is so much here and I debated on how to approach it. Not great, but I think it still packs a punch. I hope you like it regardless. Hugs and thanks again :)

He hovered.

Somewhere far behind his awareness, he knew his body still breathed. He knew he sat somewhere. The pillar of something penetrated the gray numbness covering everything.

Only the drumming remained

Beating denial into his brain.

_No, no, no, no, no._

She couldn’t’ die. She couldn’t. Could she? No, she couldn’t. Felicity was strong. Stronger than all of us. She couldn’t. Could she?

_No, no, no, no,no._

John said something. Words melted in the fog. Meaning. What meaning? There was none.

_No, no, no, no._

She couldn’t be died. Sara was wrong. This all was wrong. Any moment now the sound of her heels clipping down the steps could fill the lair. Any moment now, her laugher at some joke Roy made would ring and bunch off the walls.

Silence.

_NO, NO, NO, NO!_

Movement. He felt arms and heard grunting. Blind. Blind, couldn’t see anything. It hurt. Breathing hurt. Living fucking hurt. No, no no NO.

He thrashed against the faceless people holding him up. Diggle said something again,” Shower.” Oliver thinks, but honestly, he didn’t care. Didn’t care when he collapsed into the small shower.

Didn’t care when the cold water rained down on him.

_no._

The water seeped his clothes. Voices. He couldn’t hear. Couldn’t focus. Only the repay of the phone call,a lifetime ago. Before when he thought the world still spun on its axis. The moment when Felicity still breathed and laughed and smiled. She was visiting Sara and Nyssa, helping the League with a technical issue they weren’t accustomed to handing. It was three days-tops. Nothing dangerous. She was excited, “Always wanted to go to Asia and look at this, I get to hang out with bad-ass assassins on top a freaking mountain. So damn cool!” He made her promise. Call him. Check in. She squinted and told him not to worry. Not to worry. She would be fine.

Sara called. Diggle and Roy were sparing, and Oliver was in the middle of making a new set of arrows when his phone rang.

“Ollllliee!” A frantic, heartbroken voice scrabbled through the crappy connection.

He knew fear. Knew despair. Knew what it felt to be unmade and reformed. He knew all those things. Except annihilation. Her next words paved the way to that singularly horrific experience,”We…Felicity…is gone.” The words did not make sense.

“What?” No, that isn’t want she is saying.

Crying on the other end. Sara the master assassin sobbed on the other end, “Oh god Ollie, I am so sorry-” By then Digg and Roy knew something was wrong and wandered to the table. Oliver couldn’t look up. His body felt strange, limp. His mouth won’t work. Panic sliced Diggle’s face and he grabbed the phone from Oliver. Only other things he understood was, “Avalanche. Gone.” The grief in John’s dark eyes did it.

Oliver shook his head, pushing away from the truth in John’s face.

“No, no, no, no!” He chanted. The word, the sound becoming a lifeline.

“Oliver.” Diggle raised his hand as if trying to speak to a crazed animal.

“NO!” Oliver roared and smashed a glass container to the floor. Followed by another, and another. Diggle and Roy tackled him but the rage gave him strength and he fought, slamming them into pillars and desks.

Then he hit her desk.

Her desk with her spare glasses by the keyboard.

Didn’t mean to do it. He cracked them with his fist.

Just a small crack down the left len.

_He broke her. He broke her. He broke her._

Oliver touched the crack with a trembling finger. It shattered him. A keening emerged from his soul until it was a wail. Tears burned, spilled and etched caverns on his skin. An invisible tattoo.

Diggle crawled to him and cradled him.

 

The water sprayed down.

Trembling.

“Oliver.” John’s voice filtered through the sound of the shower.

Oliver, who is that, he wondered. Vaguely remembering this shell, this thing holding his consciousness together had a name.

_Oliver_

Felicity always said his name like a conversation. Like a song, like a slap, like a caress. Touching. No more. Never. Lost. Wasted. Stupid fear and idiot man. Lost. Lost.

Bile flooded his mouth and he threw up.

“Jesus Oliver!”

After that-sweet darkness.

 

The first thing Oliver noticed, when the darkness started to release him was light pushing on his eyelids. Everything hurt.

He groaned.

“Oliver?”

Laughter bubbled up his throat. A twinge of hysteria mingled. God he was losing his mind. Finally, broken and lost like a rag doll.

It sounded it her.

“Oliver?” Felicity’s voice, ghost, memory said. A warm hand curled into his own.

Shock jerked through his arm. His eyes shot open. He was in Diggle’s guest room. Sitting next to him in a large green sweater, Felicity looked like she fought a bear and lost. Her hair hung in clumps, her face champed and several cuts covered with bandages. Her lips were cracked and her eyes looked haunted with dark bruises underneath.

He couldn’t breath. A sound, maybe her name escaped his lips, but he couldn’t blink, couldn’t take in air.

A ghost. She was a ghost.

Then he felt the rapid beat of her pulse in her wrist underneath his finger tips.

Hope, horrible, horrible hope, exploded into his chest and he gasped, “Feli..cit..y?” He choked.

“Oh god, Oliver. I was so worried! You have been out for two days. I am so sorry. I hid in a cave. Took a while for me to find a signal on the satellite phone. I am so sorry.” She cried, let out a sob and threw herself on him. Her small arms wrapped around his neck. Warm. So warm.

It seeped into his skin.

Light.

Life.

Oliver’s arms remembered what movement felt like and curled around her body. He pulled her towards him, making her lay on the bed with him. He cradled her head and cried. Cried like he was a child again and the first time he felt pain and Raisa patched his knee.

His tears drenched her shoulder. Hers drenched his T-shirt.

Neither one cared.


	8. Lazy Mornings (or the morning after)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver enjoys waking up with Felicity on a lazy Sunday morning.

Oliver snuggled closer to Felicity, gathering her slumbering form firm against him. His legs dipped in the hallows of her bend knees, his arm draped around her waist, but his hand stole its way under her shirt, the warm, smooth expanse of her skin felt heavenly under his fingers. He stroked the underside of her breast, revisiting for a moment, the fact he was  _allowed_  to touch her- whenever he wanted.

A heady sensation, like the moment right before you sped down a rollercoster, that weightlessness,and that thrill raced through him.

He massaged her breast in his hand, enjoying how her nipple tightened even in sleep. She moaned and pressed herself deeper into his embrace, her arm which had been draped over her side, lifted and curved around his neck. Fingers played with the short strands of his hair. Her nails scrapped a delicious track up and down his head and Oliver smiled, kissing her eyelids, enjoying them flutter open.

He thought before that moment, this was heaven. All of this, between them and finally,  _finally,_ stepped over the line both of them had etched. He really thought never could make this better.

Then Felicity blinked, her clear blue eyes focusing on his, and her lips formed a lazy satisfied smile.

“Hey there,” she drawled out. Blonde hair spread over his arm, her languid, husky greeting, shot into his heart.

His rapid pulse thundered in his ears. His breath caught in his throat.

No, he was wrong. Before him he saw years of lazy mornings, waking with half smiles and wandering fingers, of mutters and begging for five more minutes, of snuggles and wrapping limbs around the other. Joy, pure, unadulterated joy surged inside him and for one magnificent moment, he was utterly content. It humbled him and a shutter went through him as thanked whatever deity which allowed him to meet her.

Maybe he should send Deadshot a thank you note.

Her expression changed, concern colored her eyes and her fingers left his head, to wipe a tear gathered at the corner of his eye.

“Are you okay?”

He smiled and kissed her, savoring the feel of her lips under his. “Yeah, for the first time in a long time, I am.”


	9. The Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr: "you love me until you don't" or Felicity finds herself in the rain.

The rain battered her skin, her clothes, soaking everything around her. Her glasses were discarded in her bag, somewhere in there, deep in the dark.

Right where she was. In the darkness, with only the numbing cold as company.

She walked because her legs propelled her forward much like a wind-up doll with just a few more clicks before the inevitable inertia took over.

 _Idiot_ , she swore to herself. Idiot for thinking, for trying to push. Idiot for going and then searching for it in someone else.

Last year, that  _look_ rocked her very foundation. Everything she thought she knew about  _their_  relationship, all the assumptions, and their places in the other’s life, all went to shit.

That  _look_ , his eyes soft and vulnerable, his face gentle and warm. That  _look_ that she saw him give at times to others, but never to her and then there was he was, giving it and everything tilted sideways.

For a while it is was fine. For a while, she understood. He  _meant_ it. But things were complicated. Things were  _always_ complicated, but she understood.

He wasn’t ready.  _They_ weren’t ready, and sadly she didn’t know if they ever would be. But then he asked her out and she said yes. For one glorious moment it felt possible. That  _look_ and all is potential futures. She saw lives drawn out in rich tapestries full of love and lust and longing. She saw laughter and joy and sorrow. And she had been ready. Ready.

Then it all went to hell and he walked away and because she knew what it meant, knew what it cost him, she let him, because in the end, she needed him in her life more than  _being_ with him. It cut her. Severed something deep and she bleed.

But to him, she smiled and laughed and kept up. She didn’t waver. Didn’t skim. And after she dated and searched for that  _look_ from another, he did not change. She tired, she really did, but it wasn’t any use.

He ruined her. She couldn’t accept it from another man and now here she was walking in the rain, miserable waiting for the rest of her life to stretch before her: Having him within arm’s reach but as far away as the moon.

Felicity tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the drops cry for her. The water streamed down her face.

Then,

It didn’t.

Blinking she opened her eyes and saw Oliver standing next to her, an umbrella covering them both. Anger, concern, regret all colored his expression. “What are you doing out here, you are going to catch a cold.” He scolded and grabbed her elbow as if to move her towards her townhouse.

Part of her wanted to ask him why he was here, but most of her knew the answer-he was always here. Always on the fringes, but never in the middle. Always outside looking in.

She didn’t budge and instead, pulled her arm out. Exhausted wore her out and this dance they had been doing for the last year had reached its end. She couldn’t anymore. Couldn’t bother to hide behind unspoken truths, and longing glances.

So tired, so very tired of being alone in the rain.

Wearily she said, “I broke up with Ray.” The words didn’t hurt to say, not really. But she wanted to swallow them back into her mouth at the triumphant look in his gaze.

“Don’t.” She said. Her voice thick.

Surprised tensed his shoulders, “What?”

She tilted her head at him and said, “Don’t look like you won something or be happy about it, Oliver.”

He gapped, and she saw him struggling to find words to reply.

She walked away from him then, and headed towards her door, but she could hear him behind her.

“Felicity.”

She gripped her railing, the drops still kissed her. She whirled on him, watching on his face was shadowed by the umbrella. Seeing him there, the paradox of his both identities occupying the same space and she let out a bitter laugh, because even though she loved him. Love both of him, all of him. He still couldn’t see it.

“What.” She said, her throat raw. He walked up the steps, staying on the two below her so the umbrella covered them both and his face was level with hers.

“I am sorry. I just want you happy.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. It was a bitter, hopeless thing. Oliver’s face darken when it emerged and again Felicity just wanted to go inside and forget. Forget this ever happened.

Except Oliver didn’t know when to quit.

“Felicity, I am sorry-”

At those words, something snapped. She leaned in and in a furious whisper said to him, “No you aren’t. You have been waiting for weeks for us to break up. You have been sweet and nice and trying so very hard, but I could tell. I could tell you couldn’t stand it. I could feel you looking at me. I could hear it in your voice. You don’t want me to be with anyone by you are too scared to be with me yourself.”

There. She said it. She panted. The patter of the rain on the taunt nylon the only sound outside of their ragged breaths. Oliver’s eyes blazed and he leaned into her, their faces only a inch part.

“You know why we can’t-”

“No, I know why you think we can be together. You don’t want me. Fine. But decided Oliver, because you love me until you don’t and I can’t live like this anymore.”

Pain and anger pooled in his face and she could see him struggling with himself. Her need to sooth. To ease his suffering. She sighed, feeling her own anger dimmed and she reached out to him and took his face into her hands. At the touch of her cold fingers on his skin, started them both. Her eyes widen, so did his. Her fingertips tingled.

They were at a precipice. Hovering between a before and after. Felicity took a breath and leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead. His skin felt feverish underneath her kiss.

For a moment nothing happened.

Then the cocoon of the umbrella evaporated as he threw it to the ground and gathered her into his arms into a searing kiss.

She didn’t feel cold anymore.


	10. Penguins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr : "Penguins mate for life" Random line i know which infuses my obsession with penguins and arrow but i dunno what you'd do with that"
> 
> Felicity and Oliver go to the aquamarine.

The Emperor penguin waddled on the artificially formed ice and dove into the chilled water. Felicity let out a small squeal as she watched the penguin swim effortless in the water, zipping back and forth like a bullet, or an arrow.

Heat colored her cheeks and she bit her lips wondering if  _everything_ in her life was going to remind her in some way of Oliver.

Someone stepped behind her and even without looking, she knew it was him, must have been summoned from her thoughts, like a fallen angel, she thought. Then she imagined Oliver tumbling downward from heaven in a short greek battle skirt made of leather, showing off his rather spectacular legs. Which if she thought about it, she didn’t see that often. Oliver had no problem taking off his shirt, but his pants… She coughed, trying to dislodge the images of helping Oliver out of his tight leather pants, of her fingers gripping the waist and tugging, tugging down, revealing his flesh inch by inch.

“There you are.” Amusement dripped from his voice and as she yelped, she tried to calm her hammering heart.

It had been like this for weeks now. Ever since Ray left town and Oliver got Queen Consolidated back, he had been _everywhere_. She didn’t mind. She loved being around him, especially since, you know, she was  _in_  love with him. But Oliver didn’t act any different than he usually did, except he was

touching her a lot more. He started to accompany her to things, like movies and showing at her place to talk and watch shows. Nothing outwardly to indicate that anything had changed in his mind set.

Except, Felicity could read Oliver and _something_  was different. There had been a shift and it was as if he the calm before a hurricane. That eerie stillness before the world erupted in a whirl of wind and chaos.

It made her skin hum and everything around her hypersensitive. Even today, surrounded by adorable, innocent penguins, she couldn’t seem to get a break from the sensual images of Oliver in her frustrated brain. They had come to the Starling Aquarium for a charity event for Queen Consolidated had agreed to host by Ray before he left. Oliver honored the company’s commiment and then he asked Felicity to come with him. “Won’t be so boring with you there.” She tried not to focus on how he lingered around her ear when he whispered this, or how his warm breath teased the small hair of her neck.

She smiled at him and raised her flute of champagne, “Here I am!” she knew her smile was too wide, but she needed to distract herself before she did something stupid-like pull on his tie and drag him into the first closet she could find.

A small portion of what she was thinking must have fluttered to the surface, because his jovial expression deepened and a lazy smile curled around his lips. The blue of his eyes turned darker and took a step towards her. Penguins swam next to them in lighting speeds, “Did you know penguins mate for life?” He said conversationally, but his expression was anything but casual.

Heat pulsed off him and Felicity felt it warm the air between them. She pressed a hand against the cool glass to steady herself. With the other hand she drank the rest of the alcohol, never taking her eyes off him.

“Actually while Emperor penguins are monogamous, it usually is for a season, though there are some couple who do re-bond the following-“ He chuckled and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. At the touch, her brain seized and whatever she was going to said disintegrated. She swore he could feel her rapid pulse underneath his fingertips.

“Felicity.” His smiled tender and wicked at the same time.

“Yeah?” She croaked out, knowing the flush on her cheeks was now traveling downward.

“Can we pretend for just this one time that I am right?” Confusion cut into the lust haze clouding her mind. Right about? The penguins? Mating for life.

Mating.

For life.

Excitement bubbled inside her and she leaned into his touch, grabbing on to his tie and gave it a tug. When she licked her lips to speak, a spike of desire stabbed her when Oliver’s grip tightened and pulled her towards him.

“I think we can do that-this once.” She smirked, her eyes half closed, anticipation buzzing through her. Oliver’s hand slip down and wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

“Good,” and bend down to kiss her.


End file.
